


Layer Me Sweet

by Yuliares



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Andy | Andromache of Scythia Loves Baklava, Baking, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuliares/pseuds/Yuliares
Summary: A chance meeting has Joe scrambling for an excuse to hang out with a cute, baklava-buying customer.Joe watches the man leave, doorbell tinkling, before sighing.“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks his coworkers.“No,” Booker says immediately. “That’s stupid.”“You are seriously such a downer,” Nile complains, and pats Joe’s back consolingly. “Maybe he’ll come back?”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80
Collections: All and More (18+) Kaysanova Gift Bag 2020





	Layer Me Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aw_writing_no](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aw_writing_no/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [aw_writing_no](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aw_writing_no/pseuds/aw_writing_no) in the [All_and_More_Gift_Bag_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/All_and_More_Gift_Bag_2020) collection. 



> For aw_writing_no (modern meet-cute, one of the boys attempts baking/cooking)

Joe whistles softly to himself, brushing past Nile with a smile as she refills the bins with warm bread rolls, tongs clacking between soft sesame and asiago cheese. He enjoys restocking after the breakfast rush, layering fresh rows of buttery croissants and scones in the display case. By the door to the kitchen, Booker slides thin, fragrant baguettes into their paper wrappers with a look of carefully cultivated disdain. Joe glances down to where the Frenchman’s fingers carefully and neatly tuck down the edges, each fold perfect and crisp. Best not to comment on it, or there will be rude gestures and an earful of crude French. For someone who pretends not to care, Booker has an explosive temper.

The front door opens with a ring of a bell, letting in a customer, and Joe sidles over to the register as a man walks in. Tall, with short hair and proud aquillin nose… and _oh_. Those _cheekbones_! What he would give to draw this beautiful man’s portrait!

Joe blinks quickly, snapping his eyes up, hoping he hasn’t been staring too obviously. Luck is with him, it appears, for the man’s own eyes are fixed upon the display case. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” Joe asks, leaning a hip comfortably against the counter.

The man’s eyes flick over, and for a moment Joe feels trapped by their pale gaze, unable to look away. They stare at each other for a moment.

“Do you have baklava?” asks the man softly, sounding hopeful.

“You - I mean, yes!” fumbles Joe, mentally slapping himself. “In the back. How many pieces?”

The man’s lips curl into a shy smile. “Just one, please.”

Joe nods, holding up a finger before quickly stepping over to the kitchen door, ignoring Booker’s quiet snort. Nile is standing over the baking sheet, a piece of baklava already cut for him.

“So," she says, handing it to him with a smirk. "He’s cute.”

“I noticed,” he tells her dryly, before escaping back front, and ringing the baklava up with the press of a few buttons.

“There we are!” Joe says cheerfully, as the man slides his card. “You want this packaged up? Or I can just put it on a napkin, if you want to snack as you go.” He offers a wink, and… well, it might be wishful thinking, but is that a hint of a blush on those pale cheeks?

“Packaged, please,” his handsome customer says. “It is for a friend. She has very high baklava standards.”

“Then you’ll have to report back!” says Joe quickly, sliding the baklava into a small foldable carton, which he places carefully in the shop’s trademark striped paper bag and slides across the counter. “It’s important to know if we meet such a lofty standard.”

The man chuckles, neatly-trimmed fingers wrapping around the top of the bag. “Perhaps I will.”

Joe watches the man leave, doorbell tinkling, before sighing.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks his coworkers.

“No,” Booker says immediately. “That’s stupid.”

“You are seriously such a downer,” Nile complains, and pats Joe’s back consolingly. “Maybe he’ll come back?”

~

It’s a little over a week before the bell of the bakery rings again, and Joe is delighted to see the face of the handsome baklava-buying man once more enter the shop.

“You’re back!” Joe cries immediately, stepping quickly over to the register. “What did your friend think?”

The man beams. “She loved it. Best she’s had since moving here. Perhaps I should be offended, since I once baked her some... but I suppose you can’t beat an authentic recipe." He shrugs, and Joe tries not to stare too obviously at the gorgeous stretch of his broad shoulders.

He's so busy trying not to stare that there's nothing left to stop his mouth from going rogue. "Do you want to hang out?"

The man looks at him in surprise. "What?"

 _Oh no_. Panicking, Joe scrambles for something sane to say. "We could… make baklava."

The man raises an eyebrow. "I don’t think your boss would like that."

"My family recipe!" says Joe, because he's already dug himself this hole. Might as well keep digging. "It has pistachios," he adds, a bit desperately, as if that made _any sense_.

Baklava-man stares at him for a long moment, and then… huffs a laugh, a dimple emerging on his cheek when he smiles.

"Okay!" he says, and Joe _can't believe that worked_. "My name is Nicky. May I get your number?"

"Yes!" Joe cries, and nearly fumbles his phone in his haste to add Nicky as a contact. Nicky smiles, buys three slices of cake ( _I'm meeting my friend's girlfriend for the first time_ , he'd confided. _I'm too nervous to bake myself_ ), and waves as he leaves the shop.

Joe stares dreamily after him, until Nile nudges his shoulder.

"Do you even know how to bake?" she asks, with a small frown.

"Ah," says Joe, not quite meeting her eyes. "Well…"

He trails off. There's no good answer to that question.

Booker barks a cackling laugh, and pauses to clap Joe's shoulder, quietly murmuring, "You are _fucked_ ," before wandering off, which is very _not_ helpful.

Joe attempts to communicate this with a rude gesture that just sets Booker off laughing again.

~

Joe sends his request as a text and a quick prayer, _inshallah_ , that his mother is busy.

Less than a minute later, she is calling him.

She gets right to the point. "Baklava recipe!? Since when do you bake? You find someone to marry? Your sister, she made this baklava for her man, and now he is her husband!"

Joe buries his face in hands. "You _know_ I would have told you if I were seeing someone, ummi."

"So you say, but now you have moved to a completely different town! I think you have forgotten about your family, we hardly ever hear from you!"

" _Ummi_ , I call you every week."

"A mother's love for her eldest son is not just once a week!"

"Give me the recipe, I will send you a photo of me with the baklava," Yusuf promises. He knows she'll immediately send it to all her friends with single daughters, but sometimes sacrifices need to be made. " _Aa rassi_ , I swear it."

~

Lucky for Joe, Nicky finds his stressed out attempt at baking charming.


End file.
